Taking Chances
by songsofthestars
Summary: Tyla fic, takes place after 2.12. What if Tim told Lyla he loved her in a different situation? What if Lyla opened her eyes to how she really felt for Tim, and decided to take a chance on their relationship?
1. Chapter 1

Hey, everybody! This is my first FNL fic. I started writing it when I saw the promo last week, and decided to finish it when things didn't turn out the way I'd been hoping. I'm a fairly new viewer to the show, so I apologize if I don't have the characters down 100 percent yet. I also wasn't clear if Chris goes to their school or not, so if he doesn't, pretend he does. It takes place the morning after Lyla and Chris kissed at the station.

* * *

The next morning at school, Lyla was removing her books from her locker after the final bell, eyes nervously darting down the hallway for any sign of Chris. She'd managed to evade him thus far, and would hate to ruin that when she would be home free in just a minute.

The reason she was trying to dodge Chris, of course, was because of their kiss the previous night at the station. It had been nice sure, and it wasn't like she hadn't kissed him back, but she felt like it was moving way too fast for her. She didn't even know how she felt about him, or this entire situation, or Tim…

Lyla shook her head, startled. Where had that come from? Tim wasn't even supposed to be a factor here.

Pushing the thought away, Lyla returned her thoughts to Chris. She knew he would be expecting something to come of last night, to at least discuss it with her, and she was not prepared to deal with that today. Of course, she would have to, seeing as how she had the show to do with him, but she was at least trying to prolong it as much as possible.

Suddenly hearing footsteps behind her, Lyla crossed her fingers, hoping it wasn't Chris, and turned around to see who was approaching. Lucky for her (Lyla wasn't even sure if was being sarcastic or not), it wasn't Chris; it was Tim, passing through on his way to practice.

"Hi, Tim," she greeted with a small smile; a peace offering.

She was still upset with him for his little prank, but she'd thought it over last night, and realized that she already knew, deep down, Tim hadn't been trying to embarrass or insult her. It was like he'd told her; he'd decided it would be funny and never thought past that, or considered how it would make her feel. Tim never did think things all the way through. Seeing as how she already knew that, Lyla was actually surprised she had gotten so upset with him; he just always knew how to push her buttons in a way that made her feel like she was going to explode.

She waited for him to return her greeting, but to Lyla's surprise, Tim didn't even so much as glance at her. Instead, keeping his eyes firmly focused ahead, he breezed right past her, and she frowned; had he not heard her?

"Tim!" she called again, louder.

There was no way he hadn't heard her this time, but he kept going, and Lyla felt a spark of anger. Was he actually ignoring her? What could_he_ possibly be upset with _her_ for?

She was tempted to chase after him and ask just that, but she knew she'd be late if she didn't head to the station now. Sighing, knowing that meant discussing the kiss with Chris, Lyla slammed her locker shut and turned to leave.

She'd be talking to Tim about this tonight; he could count on that.

* * *

"The maid? Matt was actually doing the maid?!" Smash demanded, before cracking up laughing and leaning over to high-five his friend. Matt just glared, not raising his hand. "Man, that's nice!"

That night, Matt, Landry, Smash, Jason and Tim were all hanging out at the latter's house, eating pizza and watching horror movie. At least, they had been, until Landry had unintentionally blurted out the details of his best friend's love life to everybody, practically sending the room into hysterics.

"For the last time, she's a nurse, not a maid," Matt snapped. "And I wasn't doing her. I… I think I fell in love with her," he confessed quietly, eyes downcast.

Instead of showing the sympathy he'd been hoping for, Matt's friends proceeded to roar with laughter, and he seethed, glaring at them.

"I'm glad you all think this is so funny."

"Man, weren't you just with that cheerleader, whatever the hell her name was?" Tim asked, raising his eyebrows. He was clearly trying to push Matt for a reaction, something none of them missed. "And what about Julie Taylor? Weren't you in love with her? Sorry if we don't take it so seriously every time you decide to declare you're in love."

Smash and Landry were obviously caught off guard by Tim's reaction, but Jason understood. He knew that when his friend had been staying with the Taylors, he'd come to see Julie as a little sister, and had quickly become protective of the girl. It had to bother him that Matt barely even seemed to give her a thought anymore.

"Oh, of course you're concerned with Julie," Matt replied through his clenched teeth, ignoring the remark about him falling in love. Jason raised his eyebrows, startled by how angry Matt suddenly sounded towards Tim. "You two did seem awfully friendly that night in the diner. Mind telling me what that's about?"

"Actually, I do, seeing as how she's not your business anymore. You've made that perfectly clear, right?"

"Where is this even coming from? Is Julie one of your conquests now or something?" he demanded, steadily growing more upset. "Is that why-"

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Tim interrupted with a sigh.

"Oh, really? I don't? Because-"

"No, you don't," Jason decided to interfere before things got any worse. "Julie's like a sister to Tim, okay? The idea of what you're implying probably disgusts him, to be honest."

Matt, rapidly calming down, looked over to Tim for confirmation. Tim nodded.

"Sorry," Matt muttered.

"It's fine."

There was a moment of awkward silence, which Jason was quick to fill, eager to return to the light hearted mood they'd all been in earlier.

"Besides," he began, a mischievous grin on his features. "Tim's a little too wrapped up with a certain somebody to even notice other girls."

"Who?" Smash immediately demanded, grinning.

"Jason, I swear to God-"

"Lyla," Jason answered, choosing to ignore the death threat he was sure his friend was building up to. "He looooves her."

The boys cracked up, and Tim shot Jason a murderous look.

"Is that why were you avoiding her all day?" Landry question.

"I wasn't avoiding her," he grumbled.

"Yes you were," Landry snorted. "Any time you saw her, you practically ran the other way."

"I'm glad you find me so fascinating that you were apparently watching my every move."

"You just happened to be within my eyeshot a lot," he shrugged. "And, you didn't answer the question."

"Tim got his heart broken last night," Jason explained. "Lyla kissed some other guy."

"Really? Who?" Smash asked. "I thought she'd sworn off guys."

"Chris, that guy who does the Christian radio show she's co-hosting now."

"Jason! Is there any particular reason you're in such a mood to share tonight?"

"Chris?" Smash repeated with a scoff. "Tim, you could totally take that guy. You should; show him his place."

"I'm thinking if I beat up her new boyfriend for no other reason than being her boyfriend, it might make things worse, genius."

"But you can't deny that it's tempting, can you?"

"…No, I can't," Tim conceded with a sheepish smirk, cracking his friends up once again.

They had just returned their attention to the movie when only five minutes later, the doorbell rang. Tim walked over to answer it, assuming his brother had just forgotten his key again, but looked out the peephole and suddenly whipped around, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

"What, who is it?" Matt asked, wondering who would make Tim react like that.

"Lyla!" he hissed frantically. "It's Lyla! What do I do?"

"Uh, answer the door?"

"That kind of ruins my plan to avoid her, doesn't it?!"

"Tim Riggins, I can hear you!" Lyla shouted through the door impatiently. Landry snickered.

"Uh-oh. Somebody's pissed!"

Tim groaned, and, not wanting to give her time for her anger to build, walked back over to open the door. When he did, he saw Lyla standing on his doorstep with her hands firmly planted on her hips, eyes narrowed in anger.

"Hey, Garrity," he greeted her awkwardly. "What can I do for you?"

She glanced over his shoulder, seeing that all of his friends were obviously eavesdropping, and nodded her head to the yard.

"Can I talk to you outside?"

"Yeah, uh, sure."

Tim stepped onto the porch with her, shutting the door behind him.

"So, what-"

"Why are you avoiding me?" she immediately demanded.

"I'm not," he replied reflexively.

"Tim! As if I couldn't realize that on my own, I just heard you say you were!"

Knowing he couldn't lie now, Tim merely bowed his head, and Lyla softened, simply fixing him with a look of confusion.

"What did I do? I thought-"

"You know, Lyla, I'm getting really tired of having to constantly explain myself to you," he snapped without thinking, just wanting to say something that would end this conversation before he blurted out the actual reason.

Lyla reeled back, hurt, and gazed at him for a moment, giving him the chance to take it back. When he didn't, she spun on her heel and began to storm away from his house.

Tim immediately felt a surge of regret, and was surprised by the sinking sensation in his stomach. For some reason, he was getting the feeling that if he let Lyla walk away now, she wasn't going to come back.

"Lyla! Wait! Lyla, please, just let me talk to you."

"I think you said enough," she snapped, slowing to a stop as she turned back around to look at him. "I get it. I nag you, I pester you, I butt in where I'm not wanted, and you've finally had enough of it. That's fine. I'll leave you alone from now on."

"I don't want that, I don't want you to leave me alone. God, Lyla, that's the _last_ thing I want!" he told her desperately, frantic to find a way to undo this. He thought it would be easier to just avoid her altogether now that she was with Chris, but he was rapidly realizing that he needed Lyla Garrity in his life, one way or another.

"That's the last thing you want, but you're avoiding me? Sometimes, I just…I don't get you, Tim! Why would you-"

"Because I love you!"

The words spilled out before Tim even realized he was saying them, and his heart dropped the moment he did. He had never intended to confess it to her like this, especially after last night.

Lyla gaped at him in shock, raising her hands to cover her open mouth (her jaw had literally dropped), and slowly began to pace around, not saying a word. Tim swallowed anxiously, clenching his fists nervously as his stomach twisted into knots.

"Lyla," he finally said, his tone practically pleading with her to say something. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you-"

Lyla whipped around, looking up directly into his eyes, and Tim was startled to see tears forming in hers. Hearing he loved her made her feel that bad?

"Lyla, I'm-"

"Do you mean that?" she asked shakily, reaching up to brush her tears away.

"What?" he asked. Of all the things he'd been expecting her to say next, that was not one of them.

"Do you mean that?" she repeated. "Are you in love with me?"

"Of course I did, of course I am," he told her, frowning. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it, Lyla. Why do you always think I'm using some line on you?"

"Because it's hard to tell you with you sometimes," she sighed distractedly, before launching into her next question. "Tim, I still don't understand. Why would you avoid me-"

"I saw you with Chris, Lyla. I went down to the station last night to apologize to you for being such a jerk, and I saw you kissing him."

"You came to apologize?" she whispered in surprise. "Those flowers we found…those were from you?"

"Yeah," he told her shortly. "So, I just realized that you finally got tired of wasting your time on a screw up and found somebody better. I thought it would be easier for me to deal with if I just cut you out entirely, but it's not."

"Wasting my time? Tim, I don't think I'm wasting my time with you," Lyla told him fiercely. "And I don't think you're a 'screw up.' If I did, I wouldn't have come to see you after that prank you pulled. I would have just ignored you altogether. But I _know_ you're worth my time, that's why I _did_. And to be honest, Tim, that wasn't even a huge deal to me. At the time, yeah, it hurt me, but I know you didn't mean anything by it. It's just…you make me so mad sometimes, the way nobody else does, and once it starts building, I can't stop it. Everything you make me feel is kind of like that," she admitted. Tim wondered what she meant by that.

"I kind of did mean something by it, actually," he confessed.

"You did?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I guess…that was me trying to get your attention," he said, recalling what Jason had said when he was on the phone. "Trying to tell you I like you, like we're in third grade or something. I love you, Lyla. I have for a while now, and I've just never known how to handle it. And I'm sorry," he repeated, staring down. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and I won't bring it up again-"

"Tim, you don't get it!" Lyla exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "_That_ is the last thing _I_ want."

"What?" he asked, his head snapping up.

"You're not a waste of my time, you're not a screw up, you're not making me uncomfortable. I…Tim, you…"

Lyla sighed, not finding the exact words for what she wanted to say to him, and suddenly, did the _last_ thing Tim would have expected; she threw her arms around his neck, reaching up, and crushed her lips against his.

Tim's shock quickly passed, and he gripped Lyla's hips, holding her to him tightly as she turned her head, deepening the kiss.

They only pulled away when breathing became an issue, and Lyla kept her forehead resting against Tim's. His eyes looked up to meet hers, and she just smiled.

"Lyla, I…I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but, what about Chris?"

"Chris is nothing, Tim. When I saw him after school today, I told him that nothing was going to happen with us, because I already had feelings for somebody else, and that wasn't fair to him."

"But what about-"

"The kiss? Yeah, it was nice," she admitted. Tim furrowed his brow, starting to loosen his hold on her, but Lyla reached down and placed her hands over his, keeping him in place. "But that's it. Nice. When I'm with you, on the other hand, I can't even begin to come up with enough adjectives to describe it. Remember what I said about how angry you make me, and how uncontrollable everything feels when I'm with you? That's the point; you make me _feel_ Chris is safe, but, I think it's time I started taking chances. That's what I want, Tim, you. I have for a while now, I think I was just waiting for you."

"Really?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. She nodded.

"I needed to know that I could trust you, I guess. I needed to know that you could get it together and be the guy I thought you were before I took a chance on you. And I needed to be able to trust myself."

"Why would you not trust yourself?"

"Because of the whole thing with me feeling uncontrollable with you. After everything that happened with Jason last year, I was just scared of becoming that person again, and it was like I thought being with you would do that. And," she added thoughtfully. "I guess he was part of it too. I was scared of hurting Jason again. To be honest, I kind of still am," she confessed, glancing to the house.

Tim and Lyla were both suddenly startled by the sound of the window being jerked open, and they looked over to see Jason sticking his head out the window with a cheeky grin.

"What the hell are you doing?" Tim demanded, as Lyla blushed furiously, staring at her shoes.

"I couldn't help overhearing that last bit from my position by the couch, where I was innocently watching the movie and certainly not eavesdropping, and I just wanted to reassure you, Lyla. Don't take this the wrong way, but I am completely over you. The only way the two of you are going to hurt me is if you keep making whatever this thing between you is a lot harder than it needs to be. Seriously, watching you pine for each other is physically painful."

"Uh, thanks," Lyla responded awkwardly, obviously still embarrassed.

"Thanks, buddy, that was helpful. Now, can you and the three stooges behind you get the hell away from the window?"

Jason merely chuckled, rolling away and shutting the window behind him, and Lyla looked back up at Tim, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Okay, apparently that wasn't a problem after all. You really love me?" she asked again.

"I do," he promised, softly pressing his lips to hers.

Lyla sighed happily as they pulled away from each other, before looking into Tim's eyes with a more nervous expression.

"What?" he asked anxiously, feeling his stomach clench. She couldn't have already changed her mind, could she?

"I…I can't say it back, not now. And it's not because I don't feel it, because I think I might, but I don't want to rush into things. It's what we did last time, and I think that's part of why it ended so badly, and, if I say it now, I just feel like it's not going to mean anything. I want the moment to be right."

"I'm in no hurry," he reassured her.

Tim leaned down to kiss her again, but Lyla lightly pulled back. He raised his eyebrows and she smiled, letting him know nothing was wrong.

"There's just one more thing," she told him. "Last time, our relationship, if you can even call it that, was based on lies and dishonesty, and I think that's one of the things that bothered me the most. So this time, I want us to be completely honest with each other, okay? It's the only way this is going to work."

"I wasn't really planning on lying to you about anything," he told her, chuckling. She playfully whacked his arm.

"I assumed as much. It's just that we haven't really been talking much, and I was wondering if anything happened to you lately that I should know about," she shrugged. "Kissing Chris is pretty much the only thing I have to tell you, but you already knew about it."

Tim was about to tell her that nothing that would really be of interest to her had happened, when he suddenly recalled the stolen money that was still stashed in the living room, and cringed. Damn. Why did he have a feeling this wasn't going to go over well?

* * *

"Well, that was sweet," Smash commented with a laugh, plopping down on the couch.

"Like a scene out of a romantic comedy," Landry agreed.

"You been watching a lot of romance movies lately?" Matt asked, snickering.

"Just with Tyra!"

"Speaking of you and Tyra-"

"No, no speaking of me and anybody. The subject here is Tim and Lyla, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. You're off the hook for now. Speaking of-"

"You WHAT?!" came a sudden, hysteric shriek from Lyla outside, startling them all. "Why would you do that, Tim?! How could you possibly do something that stupid? What were you thinking?! Were you even thinking at all?! If he doesn't kill you, I'm going to!"

"You know," Landry chuckled, briefly glancing out the window just in time to see Lyla fiercely slap Tim on the chest. "I really think those crazy kids are going to make it."

He dropped down into the recliner by the chair, just as Smash started laughing quietly to himself.

"What?" Jason asked.

"Nothing, it's just…Lyla's really hardcore on the good girl thing now, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, uh…what if she doesn't believe in sex before marriage anymore?"

There was a moment of surprised silence, before they all crumpled into helpless laughter at the thought of Tim being forced into celibacy.

"Bad for him but good for the team, though," Matt choked out around his snort of laughter, nearly rolling off the couch. "Can you imagine how he's going to attack the other players once the sexual frustration really sets in?"

"Maybe I can give a demonstration now."

They all whipped around at the sound of Tim's voice, and saw him standing by the door with his arm wrapped around Lyla's waist, glaring dangerously at them all. Lyla, though, was laughing as well, which made it impossible for them to stop, and Tim finally broke and chuckled quietly.

"Okay, very funny. Now, everybody out," he ordered, nodding to the door.

"What? Why?" Landry whined.

"Because I don't want there to be any witnesses when I kill him," Lyla answered with a grin, resting her head on Tim's shoulder.

"Whatever, you guys just wanna make out," Matt grumbled playfully, gathering up his things.

The boys all left, and Lyla grinned as she curled up against Tim's side, winding her arms around his waist.

"I wasn't kidding, you know, I really am going to kill you for this."

"Hey," he laughed, pressing a kiss into her hair. "At least I'll die happy."

* * *

In case anybody is wondering, this actually isn't a one-shot, I have several more chapters planned out. I'm really enjoying writing this fic, so I hope you enjoyed reading it! 


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you so much to everybody who read the first chapter! I kind of screwed around with the timeline of certain things for this one, like the Smash and Guy storylines. I hope you all like this chapter as well; it's my takeon what would have happened if Lyla were more invovled with the Guy storyline.

* * *

The next morning before school, Tim was sitting at the kitchen counter eating breakfast, while Lyla, who had come over early that morning, was lying on the couch, pouring over her trigonometry book in preparation for her test that day. 

"I hate this class," she groaned, dropping the book to the floor. "I'm gonna fail."

"Garrity, please. I don't think you could fail a class if you tried."

No response came from Lyla, and he peered over, seeing that she had buried her face against the cushion.

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Barely," she admitted, rolling over so her words weren't muffled by the fabric. "I was over here pretty late," she reminded him, a slight blush tingeing her cheeks. He grinned. "And I stayed up for hours studying once I went home. I didn't go to bed until like, an hour before I had to get up."

"Well, if I did deprive you of your sleep, I hope you at least had nice dreams when you finally got it," he said playfully, winking. She laughed, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, of course."

"And did you even eat anything before you came over here?"

"No. I can't keep anything down, I'm too nervous," Lyla groaned.

"You have to eat something," he insisted, carrying his plate of waffles over to her on the couch. "Open up."

She obliged, and Tim fed her a bite of his food.

"Oh my God, you're feeding each other now? This is worse than when I walked in on you making out last night."

"Good morning, Billy," Lyla called cheerfully, without budging from the couch.

"Morning, Lyla."

Billy grabbed a bowl from the cupboard, pouring himself cereal, and gave a loud sigh when he opened the fridge.

"Tim. What is the milk rule in this household?"

"Whoever uses the milk buys a new carton, I know, I know. Sorry, it just slipped my mind. We've got time before school, I'll go get it now. Come on, Lyla."

"Too tired to move," she groaned.

Tim grinned, gazing at his girlfriend affectionately, and Billy was startled by how different he seemed; so much _lighter_ now.

"You know, Lyla, I appreciate you making my brother happy and all, but this new smiling and laughing thing he's got going on is starting to freak me out."

"Billy, shut up. Lyla, climb on," he said to her, kneeling down in front of the couch.

Lyla laughed, practically rolling off the couch onto his back, and Tim gave her a piggyback ride out to the car.

Billy smiled as he watched them go, not even realizing what he was doing, and startled once he did. Old age was clearly making him sentimental.

* * *

"So…what's the difference between whole and two percent? Because they look the same to me."

"Two percent only has two percent of the fat in it," Lyla told him with a laugh, grabbing a carton herself when she noticed him gazing among the choices in confusion. "It tastes better that way. I have no idea why, but it does."

They quickly made their purchase, and Lyla grabbed the bag with one hand, lacing her fingers through Tim's with the other. He smiled at her warmly, raising their interlocked hands to his mouth, and lightly kissed her fingers. Lyla blushed, feeling a familiar tightness in her chest. That seemed to happen a lot around Tim. The overwhelming emotions (as of last night, it was more like one emotion; happiness) she felt around him seemed to manifest physically, and it felt like her heart was going to burst, in a strangely pleasant way.

"Hey, Tim…" she began slowly, gazing up at him as they walked. "There's, um, something I wanted to tell you. I know what I said last night, but…"

Lyla trailed off when she felt a sudden pressure on her hand, and saw Tim clench his jaw and tense his shoulders as they came to a stop by the car.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, suddenly tugging her back and pulling her behind him, in a clear protective gesture.

"What? Tim, what's going on?" she demanded, feeling her heart begin to race with nerves. Whatever it was, it clearly had to be something bad to make him act this way.

"Guy," he told her quietly, nodding to a group of men exiting a truck and coming their way. "He's heading over here, along with a couple of his friends."

"Who's- the meth dealer?!" she gasped in horrified realization, now gripping his hand just as tightly he was holding hers. "You said he wasn't going to do anything!"

"Well, I guess was wrong," Tim said tightly, glancing back over his shoulder at her, instantly seeing the fearful look in her eyes. "Hey, it's okay," he attempted to soothe her around his own anxiety. "We're in public, in the middle of the day, what can he do? And I promise, I'm not going to let anything happen to you, alright?"

"I'm not worried about _me_!" Lyla hissed at him incredulously.

"Well, look at what we have here!" Guy interrupted as he and his friends approached. Lyla instantly fell silent, and kept her gaze firmly down on her shoes. "Timmy Riggins!"

He stepped directly in front of Tim, leaning against the truck so as to effectively cage him. Lyla fought to swallow the lump in her throat.

"What's up, man? What's going down?"

"Not much, I guess," Tim replied nervously, unable to even look him in the eyes. "Just hanging around, doing my own thing."

"I can see that," Guy smirked, looking over his shoulder at Lyla. Tim released her hand as he balled his own into tight fists, stepping closer to Lyla, like he was trying to conceal her from sight. Lyla could tell he was going to say something, and she gently squeezed his shoulder, hoping he would control himself. "You don't come around much anymore. Ferrets miss you; they're depressed."

"Right," Tim muttered. Guy chuckled.

"Hey, listen. Boys and I are fixing to go hunting. Grab some beer and come with us."

"Actually, I, uh, have some things I need to take care of," he replied vaguely.

"Really? Well, gotta do what you gotta do. Alright, man."

"Alright. You guys have a good day."

Hoping that by some lucky twist of fate, Guy hadn't noticed the missing money yet and had really come over just to ask him this, Tim turned to open the car door. Guy seized his arm, and he immediately let go of the handle as he found himself being pushed up against the door, held by his shoulders. Lyla anxiously twisted her hands together, feeling like she was going to be sick to her stomach, and glanced around the parking lot, praying somebody else would drive up and interfere. Tim caught her eye, and attempted to throw her a reassuring look, even in his current situation.

"Listen, Tim. I miss you, y'know? I'm worried about you. Worried you might get in with the wrong people. Do something stupid…" he trailed off. Lyla felt her stomach drop. Oh God, he knew, he definitely knew.

Tim was about to respond, when Guy suddenly reeled back and slammed his head into Tim's, immediately ramming his fist into his stomach twice afterwards, before roughly throwing him against the car door, leaving him to double over in pain.

"Tim!" Lyla shrieked, hysteric with worry as she instinctively jumped forward to help him.

"You!" one of his friends shouted, pointing at her. "Stay there, and shut the hell up."

Lyla froze and nodded fearfully, biting her lip in an attempt to stop the tears that were threatening to overflow as she gazed at her boyfriend helplessly.

"Hey!" Tim snapped protectively despite having to struggle just to catch his breath, her scared expression pushing him over the edge. "Don't even talk to her; she's not involved in this."

"Tim, don't," Lyla whispered desperately, eyes flashing around to the three angry men.

"Hey, since you feel like talking, why don't you go ahead and tell me where the hell my money is?!" Guy demanded, the threat in his tone perfectly clear.

Tim gave no answer as he simply struggled to stand straight again, and with an irritated sigh, Guy yanked a beer bottle out of his friend's hand, and smashed it into Tim's skull.

Lyla jumped as Tim crumpled to the ground, cradling his head in his hands, and clamped her hands over her mouth to conceal the sob that escaped her. Her shoulders shook more violently as Guy's friends laughed.

"How'd that taste?" one of them snickered.

"Now," Guy began, kneeling down next to Tim. "You've got to the end of the week, pretty boy. Or I'll shoot your knees off."

With a smirk, he rose to his feet, and began strolling back over to his car, followed by one of the other men. The third one threw his own bottle down by Lyla's feet, splashing her shoes with liquor, and fixed her with a leer before joining his friends in the car.

"Good luck with the game on Friday!" Guy called out the window, speeding off.

The second they left the parking lot, Lyla fell to her knees beside Tim, allowing the sobs to wrack her body as she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, trying to assess the damage. With a groan, Tim lifted his head, and Lyla gasped when she saw the deep, bloody cut on his forehead.

"Oh, Tim," she whimpered, taking deep breaths in an attempt to not completely lose it. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," he grunted, pressing a hand to his forehead. "What about you, are you alright?" he pressed.

"I'm fine!" she exclaimed in disbelief, gaping at him. "Tim, I'm not the one who just got beat up!"

"It's not that bad, honestly."

The statement was made even more ridiculous by Tim clutching his stomach in pain, and Lyla shook her head.

"Yeah, right," she sniffed, reaching up to wipe away her tears.

"Hey, come here," he said gently, pulling himself to a sitting position and opening his arms to her.

Lyla immediately burrowed into his embrace and Tim held her tightly, resting his head against her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Lyla," he murmured. She frowned, pulling away to glance up at him.

"Tim, what could you possibly have to be sorry for?"

He glanced away from her, shrugging, and Lyla sighed. She knew Tim didn't have the easiest time communicating his feelings, and now was not the time to push him.

"Come on, we need to get you cleaned up."

* * *

Billy glanced up at the sound of the front door opening and hopped off the stool, rolling his eyes.

"Finally. How long does it take to get a carton of milk? What were you doing, taste testing in the middle of the…"

Billy trailed off as the two teens stepped through the doorway, and he saw his brother with his arm wrapped around his stomach, blood dripping from his forehead, as his girlfriend watched him carefully, keeping her arm hooked under his for support.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded, stunned.

Lyla practically hurtled the carton of milk at him, and Billy barely caught it before it slammed into his chest. She guided Tim to the recliner, and turned back to Billy.

"Guy and his friends happened. He came to give Tim a warning that he has a week to return the money, or he's going to shoot him in the knees. FYI, for future reference, this is why you don't steal from meth dealers," she snapped, glancing between both of them now. "And for the record, it makes me kind of sad that I have to tell you that."

Billy gazed at Tim, and was startled by the intense guilt that set in as he watched the blood trail down his little brother's face. Why had he let him take that money? He was older, he was supposed to know better; he was supposed to keep him safe from these situations, not be the one who got him involved in the first place.

"Do you guys have a first aid kit? Of course you don't," Lyla answered herself, practically the moment she asked it. "Um, I guess a wet rag will work. Can you get me one, Billy? Billy?"

"Oh, yeah," he snapped back to attention. "Sure."

He grabbed one, running it under the sink, and tossed it to Lyla. She perched on the arm of the chair, pressing it to Tim's forehead, as Billy anxiously began pacing the kitchen.

Tim attempted to catch Lyla's eyes as she cleaned up his cut, but she firmly avoided his gaze, staring at the wall behind him. He noticed her biting down on her lip, blinking rapidly, and he finally couldn't take it anymore; Tim lightly grabbed her chin in his hand, tilting her face up to look at him.

"Hey, Lyla; what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" she repeated, shaking her head. "Tim, you just got attacked and threatened, I'm scared for you. Believe it or not, people do worry about you."

"It's gonna be fine, Lyla."

"How?" she pressed. "How are you guys going to come up with two thousand dollars by the end of the week?"

"Uh, actually," Billy interjected uncomfortably. "Three thousand."

"What?" she demanded. "You spent the other thousand? Great, Billy, that's just great. Now it's even more impossible."

"We'll figure something out," Billy attempted to defend himself.

"Again; how? You have a week. If you're going to come up with a plan, you better do it now. What are you going to do, drive over to the next town and steal from their crack dealer?"

Billy sighed and looked away from her, and Lyla winced.

"I'm sorry, that was rude. It's just…we don't have a lot of time here, and I don't know what _we're_ going to do," she said, stressing the word so they'd known she was in this with them, for better or worse.

"Lyla," Tim jumped in now, furrowing his brow. "Billy and I will handle this. I don't want to get you involved."

"Too bad," she responded shortly. "As long as you're involved, I am. Do you think I'm going to spend the rest of the week just _hoping_ my boyfriend doesn't get his kneecaps shot out?"

Tim gave an exaggerated sigh of frustration, but Lyla held firm, stubbornly placing her hands on her hips.

"Quit your glaring, it's not changing anything. Now, honestly, guys, we need to figure out what to do about this."

They all fell silent, thinking, and quickly realized that none of them had a solution in mind. Tim glanced over at Lyla, attempting to muster up a smile and lighten the mood.

"Are you that against the crack dealer idea?"

"Alright," Lyla began, choosing to ignore that. "I have a feeling the two of you aren't going to love this idea, but…what if we tell Coach Taylor?"

"No," Tim instantly responded, not even taking a second to consider it.

"But, Tim, he could help!" Lyla insisted. "If he knew, he would-"

"Be furious and kick me off the team. The answer is no."

Lyla huffed, but happened to catch a glimpse of the clock before she responded, and her eyes promptly widened.

"Shoot, we have to get to school. Come on, Tim. Billy," she ordered, pointing her finger at him. "You keep brainstorming."

Tim and Lyla hurried out, Tim still holding the cloth to his head, and Billy buried his head in his hands the moment the door shut. He could brainstorm all he wanted, but he knew no miracle solution was going to come.

* * *

"Dude, I am telling you, something about that girl is not right."

"What girl?" Tim asked as he plopped down next to Matt at the lunch table that afternoon. Matt glanced up, chuckling.

"Landry's new girlfriend."

"I told you, she's just my physics partner. Besides, she's a nice girl."

"I'm sure she is. I'm just saying, I couldn't help noticing that she seemed a little strange."

"Well then, you were noticing the wrong thing."

"What should I have been noticing?"

"Hello! Tyra! Come on, she totally wanted to claw Jean's eyes out, don't tell me you couldn't see that. She still wants me, I know it," he declared. Tim snorted.

"Man, Tyra wants to claw everybody's eyes out. I don't know if that's a sign of a whole lot."

"Wow, thanks for the input, Tim. Oh, hey," he snapped. "Speaking of people wanting people, I'm pretty sure that guy who made out with your girlfriend is going for round two over there."

Tim whipped around so quickly that the rest of the group at the table were surprised he didn't break something.

He glanced around, trying to see where Landry had been nodding to. He quickly located Lyla in the doorway of the cafeteria, and sure enough, Chris was standing in front of her, his arm crossed over the doorway as they spoke, so she was unable to leave. Considering that Tim knew a thing or two about the subject, he could see that Chris was obviously attempting to flirt with Lyla, something that didn't sit well with him.

"Oh, great," Matt muttered, seeing Tim ball his hands into fists as his shoulders tensed. "Now Tim's going to commit murder in the same room where we eat our food. I hope you're happy, Landry."

"I'm not going to do anything," Tim said through his teeth, forcing himself to turn back around. He was trying to control his temper better, for Lyla, if nothing else.

"You're…not?" he asked slowly, surprised.

"No."

Matt and Landry glanced at each other in confusion, and Matt quickly changed the subject to the superbowl before Tim could have a change of heart.

"No way! They don't stand a chance, he…"

A few minutes later, Landry trailed off in mid sentence as Lyla suddenly appeared behind Tim and sat down next to him. Acting as if this were an everyday occurrence, Lyla began casually removing her food from her bag, until she slowly realized that nearly everyone at the table had stopped talking, and turned to stare at her.

"What?" Lyla asked uncomfortably, glancing around. "Is this a players only table or something?"

"No," Landry said, nodding to a few of the cheerleaders at the table for proof. "It's just, uh…don't you always eat with the kids from church?"

"Well, usually," she shrugged, before looking up at Tim with a warm smile. "But now I have a better reason to be here."

Tim grinned and leaned down to give her a quick kiss. He wasn't a fan of discussing his feelings; the only reason he'd been able to tell Lyla he loved her in the first place was because he had blurted it out unintentionally. But, something about the way she smiled at him sometimes gave him the fleeting (very fleeting) urge to jump on the table and shout how much he loved Lyla Garrity to everyone.

In spite of himself, Tim just had to turn and see how Chris was taking her relocation, and couldn't control his quiet snickering when he saw the boy sulking at his table.

"Chris doesn't mind you being here?"

"No," she said slowly, giving him a confused look. "Why would he?"

"I'm just saying, he seemed to have his heart set on you joining him for lunch."

"What are you talking about? When?"

"Over there, just a second ago. You know, when he was hitting on you."

"What?!" Lyla laughed incredulously. "Tim, he was not hitting on me!"

"Hey, I think I've done enough of it in my life to recognize it when I see it."

"Okay, Chris is not like…_oh_, wait. Are you jealous?" Lyla asked slowly, an amused smirk appearing on her lips.

"No!" Tim immediately replied, so defensively that Lyla instantly knew she had hit the nail on the head.

"Tim, you know that there's no reason to be, right? I chose you."

"I know, I'm not."

"If you say so. Hey," she changed the subject, not wanting him to make him uncomfortable by pushing it. "How's your head been?"

"It's fine. I told you, it's not that bad, stop worrying."

"Easier said than done," she rolled her eyes.

Lyla glanced around the table as she unscrewed her water bottle, and was surprised by the absence she now noticed.

"Hey, where's Smash? Doesn't he always sit here?"

Tim looked around as well, having also been wondering about that, and Landry raised his eyebrows.

"You didn't hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Smash got arrested this morning. Coach is down there trying to straighten things out right now."

"What?!" Lyla cried in shock.

"Don't tell me it's because of what happened at the theater," Tim groaned, shaking his head.

"Yeah, it is. He got charged with assault."

"That's complete bullcrap," he said heatedly.

"Wait, what incident at the theater? I'm a little out of the loop here, somebody catch me up."

"Smash went to the theater with his girlfriend and his sister a couple of nights ago," Matt began to explain. "Some boys sitting behind his sister started harassing her. Smash told them to stop, they didn't, so…"

"He did what he had to do," Tim supplied.

"He hit them?" Lyla guessed. Matt nodded. "Well…he shouldn't have been arrested for that, but I don't think that's what he _had_ to do."

"What? Why not?" Tim asked. She shrugged.

"If he had just left, they would have gotten out of the situation and everything would be fine. But, because he hit them, he's in jail now. Is that what you would have done?" Lyla asked him, honestly wanting to know what would have happened if it were her and Tim in that kind of situation, though she already had a good feeling.

"They were harassing his little sister and saying crap about his girlfriend. If anybody treated Julie that way, or said anything about you, hell yeah I'd hit them," he told her unapologetically.

"Have you ever considered that that kind of attitude might be the reason why you get into situations like this?" Lyla asked wryly, gently grazing his cut up forehead.

"Not really. Now I kind of am," he muttered. Lyla grinned.

"As long as I'm making you think."

* * *

A couple of days later, Lyla was curled up on the chair in the Riggins' living room, waiting for Tim to return home from practice so they could try to come up with another idea to pay Guy back. She had already realized that they weren't going to be suddenly struck with a brilliant idea now, and that even if they did, there was no time left to execute. It seemed obvious what they had to do, at least to her. Now, it was just a matter of talking Tim into it.

She heard a key in the lock and glanced up, expecting it to be Tim. Instead, Billy was the Riggins boy who walked in. Lyla smiled in greeting, and he returned it with a polite nod.

"Hey, Lyla. What are you doing here?"

"Just waiting for Tim to get home so we can talk," she answered, setting the book she'd been reading aside. "We've only got a few days left, so it seems obvious that the only option left is telling Coach Taylor. I'm just trying to figure out how I'm going to make your thick headed brother see that."

Billy chuckled and wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Lyla stood up and nervously trailed after him, fidgeting with her hands.

"Hey, um, Billy. I hope it doesn't bother you that I'm here. I know I've been hanging around a lot lately, and I wouldn't want to-"

"Not at all, Lyla," he interrupted her, brushing off her concerns. "A few days ago, when I told you that I appreciated you making my brother happy, I wasn't just joking around. Hell, as far as I'm concerned, you can move in if you want to."

"I think I'll have to pass for now, but I'm keeping that in mind as a future option," she replied, grinning.

"In all seriousness, Lyla, I'm glad you're around to look out for him now. He needs somebody to, and I've obviously been doing a pretty horrible job of it. And of being a brother in general, really," he sighed, looking away from her uncomfortably.

"Billy," Lyla said softly, surprised by how genuinely upset he seemed with himself. "You're not a horrible brother."

"My brother has gone from being homeless to being in debt with a meth dealer who's threatening to shoot him, in a very short amount of time. I'm clearly doing something wrong," he snorted.

"You're doing your best. That's all that matters," she told him firmly.

Billy opened his mouth to respond, but fell silent when they heard the doorknob being turned. Lyla turned around to greet him, but the smile on her face disappeared the second he stepped through the doorway, as her heart dropped in dread; Tim's face was covered in blood and littered with bruises.

"What happened?!" she blurted out, rushing to his side as Billy remained where he was, frozen in shock.

"What else?" Tim asked roughly, wincing when Lyla grabbed his face in her hands as she tried to assess the damage. "Guy decided to remind me that payday is coming up soon."

Lyla had been spending the whole day planning how she would discuss this with Tim, how she would calmly make him see reason and agree to speak with his coach. Unfortunately, now that she saw Tim in this state, and knew what a small example it was of what would happen if Guy didn't get his money, those thoughts promptly went flying out of her head.

"That's it," she declared in a panicked rush, feeling her heart pound anxiously in her chest. "We're going to see coach Taylor, now."

"No, we're not," he snapped, sounding every bit as determined as her.

"Tim!" Lyla shrieked furiously. "What is wrong with you? Why won't you just accept that we don't have any other options?"

"Lyla, Coach finally respects me, for the first time that I can remember. He actually seems to think that I'm worth his time, for once. If I go to him with this, or if we even go to the cops and he finds out from them, that's all gone! He'll kick-"

"He'll kick you off the team, I know," she snapped. "But you know what, Tim? You can't play football if you take a round of bullets to the knees! You can't play football if you're dead!"

"She's right, Tim," Billy finally spoke up. The teens turned to look at him, and were both surprised to see Billy balling his hands into his fists, clenching his jaw. He looked absolutely furious. "I'm not seeing any other options here. And it's for the best we do it this way, because if I see Guy now, so help me God, I don't know what I'm going to do to him."

"It is not that serious," Tim argued, furrowing his brow. "Guy can make threats all he wants, but he's not going to actually follow through!"

"He already had, Tim, twice!" Lyla shouted, motioning to his face. "You're in denial, and you're being an idiot. And if you won't do anything about this, I will," she vowed, spinning on her heel to walk to the door.

"Lyla, I swear, if you do this…"

Tim let the obvious threat to leave her hang in the air. Lyla gazed at him sadly, but Tim didn't apologize or take it back. Bowing her head, Lyla left and Tim took a shaky breath, sagging his shoulders.

"No, offense, little bro, but I think you just screwed up," Billy informed him tightly. "Big time."

* * *

Three hours later, Billy and Tim were sitting in the living room, silently watching TV. Tim had barely spoken a word since Lyla had left, and Billy noticed his little brother anxiously drumming his fingers against his legs, glancing at the door every few minutes in hopes that she would come back.

He finally got wish several minutes later when there was a light rapping at the door. Tim jumped to his feet, but Billy quickly did the same and grabbed his arm.

"Wait," he hissed. "Doesn't Lyla have a key?"

"She probably just doesn't want to come barging in after that," Tim argued, yanking his arm back.

"Just a wait second!"

Billy slowly walked to the door, peered out the peephole, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was just Lyla. He opened the door and Lyla walked in, holding a manila envelope in her hand. Tim smiled at her nervously, his silent way of apologizing, but Lyla didn't return it, instead just handing him the envelope.

"Here, that's all of it."

Tim frowned curiously, opening it, and raised his eyebrows in shock when he saw the large bundle of money.

"How did you get this?"

"My dad. I just told him it was an emergency and he agreed, no questions asked. You helped him out once," she said, recalling Tim giving her a hand when her dad had gotten drunk. "Think of this as his way of repaying you."

"Lyla, I can't-"

"Thank you, Lyla," Billy cut him off, grabbing the envelope. Lyla smiled at him gratefully, and he disappeared down the hall to give them privacy.

"Lyla," Tim sighed awkwardly, taking a step closer to her. "I'm sorry. I…I didn't…"

"I know," Lyla said softly. "But, I need to say something, Tim. Even if you really had meant that, even if you did break-up with me for this, even if you never so much as looked at me again for it, I still would have gone to Coach if my dad had said no. Because I love you."

Tim's eyes widened in surprise and actual amazement, as if he couldn't believe he was really hearing this. Lyla smiled nervously, like she was trying to reassure him this was real, and Tim grinned, feeling his heart begin to pound.

"I love you that much," she continued. "That I would be willing to lose you if it meant keeping you safe. I just…wanted you to know that."

Lyla waited for Tim to say something in response, but he didn't. Instead, Tim reached out and tugged Lyla into his arms, crashing his lips against hers. Lyla wound her arms around his neck, eagerly responding to the kiss, and gently laughed when he pulled away, feeling pleasantly light headed.

"Love you, Garrity," he quietly murmured against her lips. Lyla grinned.

"Love you too, Riggins," she responded playfully.

"Hey! Everything okay out there now?" Billy shouted from his room.

"Everything is great," Lyla called back, laughing. "You can come out."

Billy returned, still clutching the envelope like he was scared to let it go.

"So, Tim and I will take the money to Guy first thing tomorrow morning, and we can be done with this."

"I'm going with you," Lyla told them.

"No!" Billy and Tim replied in unison.

"Why not?" she challenged.

"It's too dangerous, Lyla. There's no way we're putting you in that situation."

"But that's the thing; I don't think it's dangerous, not for me. Guy barely even glanced at me in the parking lot, I don't think he cares. And, I'm not really involved with this; I'm not in debt to him, and so I think it'll be safer for the two of you if I'm there. Maybe he won't risk doing anything in front of an innocent witness, y'know?"

"I don't want to risk getting you hurt for a maybe," Tim argued, holding firm. Lyla sighed.

"You guys can't stop me from going. If you don't take me, I'll just show up myself."

Tim glowered but said nothing, knowing that was true, and Billy chuckled quietly.

"Well, no wonder you two are working out so well. You're both too damn stubborn for your own good."

* * *

The next morning, the three were all standing in front of Guy's door, preparing to give him the money back. Lyla and Tim were clutching each other's hands tightly, both trying not to display how nervous they were, while Billy kept his arms crossed defensively.

"Ready?" he asked them.

"Yeah," Tim said shortly. Lyla tried to answer as well, but the words caught in her throat, and she merely nodded.

Billy knocked on the door shortly, and Guy answered after a minute of waiting.

"Oh, hello boys. And girl," he added, his usual sleazy smile plastered to his face.

"Let's just get this over with, alright?" Billy asked gruffly.

"Hey, Billy. How you doing? Good to see you."

"Here's your money," Tim said quickly, before his brother could respond, handing him the envelope. "It's all there. We'll see you around."

Tim turned to leave, pulling Lyla along with him, but Guy shook his head.

"No, let's count it first, come on in."

"Look, if you've got the money, we're good," Billy told him, not wanting to set a foot in that house.

"Look, man," Billy chuckled, pulling his gun out and casually waving it around. "Just bring it on in. We'll make sure I have my money."

Swallowing roughly, Tim turned to Lyla, who was staring at the gun with wide-eyed fright.

"Look, why don't you just wait out-"

"No, she comes too. Now everybody, come on in and let's count this money."

Billy sighed and followed Guy in, nodding for Tim and Lyla to follow along and do what he said. Tim wrapped his arm around Lyla's waist as they did so, being sure to keep her close to him. Lyla dug her fingers into Tim's shirt, holding him like a life preserver.

Guy lead them to the living room, where a large group of his friends were lying around, most of them obviously already drunk, and began to count the bills. Tim and Lyla hung back, looking around nervously as they tried to just not be noticed by those in the room, while Billy stood in front of them, actually looking, to their surprise, downright protective.

Billy counted two thousand out and glance over at three of them, taking in their appearances.

"What's wrong, Tim?" he asked with a smirk. "You're looking a little depressed."

"Look, can we just get this over with?" Billy snapped. "Count the money so we can get out of here."

"Billy…" Lyla whispered anxiously, shaking her head.

"Hey, calm down, man. You'd think I wasn't the one who got ripped off here!"

"Oh, well, why don't you call the cops then, Guy?"

"Ooh, good one, Billy."

He counted out the last thousand and smiled, seeming somewhat surprised.

"Well, what do you know, it's all there."

"Great, let's go," Tim said quickly, as he and Lyla immediately turned to leave.

"Okay. It's taken care of, it's all paid up, and we don't owe you a dime extra," Billy said defensively, not following them. Lyla grimaced, and Tim spun around, glaring at his brother.

"Billy, let's just _go_."

"It's over with now, okay?" he pressed.

"I don't want a dime extra," Guy frowned, looking Billy over.

"You're not going to touch him again, you hear me?" Billy told him, digging his nails into his palms. Lyla gazed at Billy in surprise as she realized what was going on; apparently, Billy was feeling even guiltier about being a 'bad brother' than she'd realized, and he was choosing the worst possible moment to try and make amends and turn that around.

"I hope he doesn't give me no reason to touch him again," Guy snapped, rising from his chair.

"I don't give a crap if he gives you a reason, you're not going to touch him again, just say it!" Billy shouted.

Tim stared at him, stunned by his brother's behavior, and Lyla anxiously looked around, seeing Guy's friends all standing up.

"Billy, please, let's go," Lyla begged quietly. Billy was so focused on Guy, she doubted he even hear her.

"You need to calm down," Guy ordered, getting in Billy's face. "Tim, you better tell-"

"Listen to me, you fat son of a bitch, you're not going to touch him again, you understand me?"

"So concerned about your bother now? Oh, hey, how's Jackie-"

Billy suddenly lunged forward and slammed Guy up against the table, shouting at him so rapidly that Lyla couldn't understand a word he said. Guy's friends all began to rush over, and Tim jumped over, grabbing the back of his brother's shirt, frantically yelling at him to let it go. Lyla clamped her hand over her mouth in shock as the room rapidly descended into chaos, and tears of panic stung her eyes.

"Billy! Let's go!"

Tim finally managed to pull Billy off of Guy, just as the dealer grabbed his gun off the table. Tim instantly grabbed his brother and Lyla's wrists and yanked them down the hallway at run, managing to shoot a glare at Billy as he did so.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" he demanded as the three of them all tore out of the door, racing for the car.

"Just get in!" Billy yelled, seeing Guy and his friends following them. "He's got the gun, Tim, he's got the gun!"

"You're barking up the wrong tree, Billy!"

They all dove into the car, and Tim frantically turned the key into the ignition, swearing loudly when the car wouldn't start.

"Tim, come on!" Billy pressed him, seeing Guy come closer.

"I'm trying!"

Lyla stared over her shoulder as Guy and his group got closer and closer, Guy still waving the gun around, and clamped her hands over her mouth once again, stifling her terrified sobs as the tears spilled over.

After what felt like an eternity, the car finally started just as Guy reached the window, and Tim hit the gas, tearing off across the curb and onto the road.

As they sped off into the distance, leaving the house behind him, Tim felt his breathing slowly return to a normal rate, and turned to ask his brother what he'd been thinking. Billy was hunched over in his seat, gazing out the window and he chose to leave it alone, seeing Billy wouldn't exactly be receptive to a conversation right now.

Instead, he glanced up at the rearview mirror to look at Lyla, and felt a sharp pang when he saw her silently weeping into her arms as her shoulders shook violently. Tim wished Billy were driving so he could get into the back with her.

"Hey, Lyla," he said softly, getting her attention. She glanced up, taking deep shaky breaths as she attempted to pull it together, and he tried to smile. "It's okay now, everything is fine. It's over and done with."

She nodded and wiped her tears away, glancing between him and Billy with a weak smile.

"You two okay up there?" she asked, surprised by how meek she sounded.

"We're fine," he promised.

Lyla reached a hand over the back of his seat, and Tim took one of his off the steering wheel, grabbing hers and lacing their fingers together.

"Everything is going to be fine," he promised again.

Then he squeezed her hand, shooting her another smile in the mirror, and this time, Lyla believed him.

* * *

When they reached the Riggins household, Billy left to his room without a word, shutting the door behind him, and Tim sighed. 

"What is his problem?" he muttered to himself, going to the fridge and grabbing one of the few bottles of water they had.

He walked back into the living room and handed it over to Lyla, who accepted it wordlessly, still rubbing her eyes. Even if Tim had succeeded in making her feel better, she was hardly over how close the three of them had come to being shot.

Tim gazed at her quietly, and the guilt he felt at the sight of her downcast eyes quickly became overwhelming, and he knew he had to say something.

"This is why I'm jealous of Chris," he suddenly spoke up, so softly that Lyla almost didn't hear him. She glanced up, surprised he was admitted to his jealousy, and wondering what he actually meant by that, and saw that Tim was firmly staring at his shoes. "Because as much as it _kills_ me, I know that he's better for you than I ever could be. And it makes me wonder if maybe you _should_ be with him."

"What? Tim, what are you talking about?" Lyla asked, so distracted by this unexpected reveal that her lingering fear was immediately erased. "_How_ is he _better_ for me?"

"Just look at him. He's a good little Christian boy, who spends all his time with the right kind of people, never doing anything that you would disapprove of. You two have a lot in common…I mean, you do the station together and all that. And you're _happy_ around him. And then there's me. I constantly let you down and disappoint you, I constantly screw up. And I just got you involved with _meth dealers_, and put you in a situation where you could have been killed," he spat. Lyla stared at Tim sadly; she hated how self-deprecating he was, and how hard it was for him to see the good in himself.

"Tim, that's not true," she insisted, reached out and tilting his head up so he was looking at her. "How many times to have to tell you that you don't disappoint me before you'll believe it? Because I don't know how else to say it. And I'm happy around Chris the way I'm happy around…Jason, or I don't know, Julie. Like a friend. He doesn't make me happy the way you do, not even close. Also, for the record, you didn't get me involved with meth dealers. You tried to keep me out of it for my own safety, and I chose to get involved myself, because _I love you_."

Tim softened, and Lyla was relieved that he seemed to actually hear what she was saying.

"And that's another thing," she continued. "Does the fact that I love you and don't have feelings for Chris come into play at all? Because that seems like a pretty big deal to me. And, can I just say one more thing? Even if we were in some weird alternate university where I did have feelings for Chris, do you know how quickly I would get _bored_ with him? I love you, and I'm happy with you, but you challenge me too. I need that; it keeps me on my toes," she laughed.

Tim smiled, and Lyla did the same, happy to see that he wasn't going to dwell on this. She wrapped her arms around his waist and Tim pulled her into a tight hug, kissing the top of her hair.

"Hey," she said as she looked down the hallway. "You know why Billy acted the way he did, right?"

"Uh, no. I was actually planning on asking him what the hell all that was about when he decided to come out of his room."

"I don't think you'll have to. You know what he told me the other night? He said he thinks he's been a bad brother to you."

"What?" Tim frowned.

"Yeah, and he seemed to feel really guilty about that. I think today, he was trying to make up for it by defending you like that."

"That's insane, he doesn't have anything to make up for!"

"You know what? I think the two of you really need to just talk about all of this, alone, so I'm going to leave and let the two of you have it out. I know you guys aren't the most verbal people in the world, but I honestly think things will be better once you do."

"Wait a second," Tim said, not releasing her from his embrace when she tried to move. "We just pissed off a gun wielding meth dealer and his friends. If you think I'm not driving you home, you're crazy."

"Okay, you can take me home, but then you are going to talk to your brother. Got it?"

"Yes, mom."

Lyla laughed, slapping him across the chest, and Tim gently grabbed her arm as she did so, pulling her into a kiss. Tim smiled as they pulled away, looking into her eyes hesitantly.

"Hey, Garrity?"

"Yeah, Tim?"

"I, uh…" Tim paused. He didn't say this kind of thing often, and it wasn't easy for him to just say how he felt. She made him want to try, though. "Just wanted to tell you that you make me happy too."


End file.
